Chapter 35
. . .
Drew
DevastatedDino: When you’re that bad at your job that you have to bang your client to stay employed.
DevastatedDino: Golden boy of the NHL? Wake up, Rogues fans! The only passion Will Jones has is for his coach’s daughter.
DevastatedDino: I’d sure hate to be Jensen Jones or Jessie Callaghan right now. THE HUMILIATION. I guess that’s what happens when you spoil your kids enough that they walk all over your legacy.
DevastatedDino: First Line PR should distance themselves from this scandal, their disgusting employee, and their client. And by “distance themselves,” I mean fire Drew Callaghan and Will Jones.
DevastatedDino: Didn’t Drew graduate from college early? Not so smart after all. #justanothernotchonwillsbedpost
There’s no end to the posts from an anonymous account that was set up last night on every social media platform available. In the space of less than a day, they’ve accumulated over a hundred thousand Instagram followers and a similar number on TikTok.
The moment Will asked me to call him, I knew it had all gone very wrong. I knew I was finished, and I couldn’t resist as I pulled up socials and was instantly hit with thousands of notifications and tags, all calling for me to address the rumors and confirm their validity.
DevastatedDino is the original poster and likely the hacker who managed to guess Will’s pathetic excuse for a passcode. And judging by the way they’re taking the time to respond to every single comment on each post they’ve shared, they aren’t at all sorry about it.
“Drew …” Vesper’s soft voice is followed by a gentle hand over mine. She comes to sit next to me on the couch, attempting to curb my doomscrolling. “Girl, you need to stop looking at that shit, or you’ll make yourself sick again.”
“They shared every single message. The only one they left out is a naked picture Will sent to me and only because it would be pulled down as a community guideline violation. They have no shame. No fucking shame!” My voice doesn’t feel like mine.
I know I’m in shock and that Vesper is right. Still, since we got back to my place ten minutes ago, all I’ve done is torture myself with the internet.
Instagram disappears, and Will’s contact lights up the screen again.
I reject the call and push out a frustrated breath. I’m so fucking mad at him, but mainly at myself for being so damn stupid.
“Did I break up with Will back there?” Through sore eyes, I turn to look at Vesper. “I can’t remember how we left it before we made for my car.”
Locking my phone, Vesper takes it and rests it in her lap.
“Not officially, no. But you made it pretty clear that you’re pissed.”
She casts her eyes around my apartment, and all I want is for Will to show up here, unannounced, like he’s done so many times before. Equally, I don’t have anything good to say to him other than how fucking angry I am that, once again, he refused to follow my advice.
“It’s your dad.” Vesper interrupts my thoughts, offering the phone for me to take before she rises from the couch and makes herself scarce.
I stare down at the call, bile rising up my throat as I hit Accept and wait for him to say something.
“Drew, sweetheart, are you okay?”
The sound of Dad’s voice rips an uncontrollable sob from my chest, and I lose it, a deep wail tearing from my throat. It feels like I’ve lost everything, including the man I risked it all for.
“Drew, it’s your mom. We’re both here, and we’ve both seen everything online. Where are you right now?”
“Are you at his place?” Dad asks, tone much harsher than when I first answered the call.
I shake my head even though it’s pointless. “No. I’m at home with a friend.”
I pull a huge breath into my lungs, and it feels like I might pass out.
“I want you to know we aren’t mad at you, but we are very concerned. We want you to call a taxi and come home for a few nights,” Mom pleads.
“No,” I protest. “I’m not a teenager anymore, and I’m not going to run to my parents at the first sign of trouble.”
Dad chuckles, but it sounds more dark than humored. “How did the messages get leaked, Drew?”
Vesper reappears, holding a glass of water out for me.
I offer her a tight smile and take a small sip.
“Drew?” Dad presses, and all I want to do is end the call.
“What’s going to happen with Will?” I question, knowing Dad will understand exactly what I’m referring to—his future on the team.
“That’s not your concern,” he simply replies, sounding increasingly frustrated.
“He’s my boyfriend.”
“Oh, honey.” Mom’s soft reply makes me crave the safety of her arms.
“I’ll deal with my player when I know my daughter is safe and okay,” Dad grumbles. He doesn’t mean for his voice to sound harsh, but it does. Whenever he’s really worried about me or Marley, he comes off as mad.
I close my eyes, hating having to say this, but all too aware that my parents deserve full disclosure. Dad’s reputation is also getting a hammering right now for his allegedly failing to control his players.
“We’re pretty sure the leak came from Will’s phone, and Will thinks the person responsible is Tristan Vaughn.”
A sharp scoff rings down the line. Genuinely, this couldn’t be worse news for Dad. One player and his daughter caught up in the scandal is bad enough. Two players, and he’ll be lucky to hold on to his job.
“I’m really sorry, Dad.”
“Hey, hey!” He immediately shuts down my apology. “I don’t want to hear a single sorry from you, sweetheart. Yes, it’s a mess, but I’d be a hypocrite to criticize you for making mistakes when I’ve made more than I can count in my life.”
The migraine forming makes me want to puke again, and I take another sip of water before setting the glass down on the coffee table.
“Will isn’t a mistake.”
When Dad doesn’t respond, I look across at Vesper. She’s chewing anxiously on her perfectly manicured thumb.
“I’m not saying he is, Drew.” Dad releases a forlorn sigh. “But that won’t prevent the PR shitstorm from raining down on us all.”